Jellicle Stars
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: Tugger begins the night with a little action...and it goes on from there. Features Mistoffelees, Munkustrap, Electra, and others. Just a little fic that evolved over the last few days. A little sexual suggestion, but I'm rating down. It's not too heinous.


I can't believe it. When the hell did I start writing again?

I like this fic, actually, except I felt it went downhill at the end. Sorry! Also, Misto and Tugger are my favorite characters, and I'm also hopelessly in love with the men who play them in the movie (my fics are all written for video cast, obviously). Anyway, yeah. Movin' on.

* * *

"Tugger!"

The Rum Tum Tugger growled deep in his throat and clicked his teeth together. Munkustrap didn't have Coricopat and Tantomile's senses of foresight, or Mistoffelees' magical stealth, or even Cassandra's ability to melt into shadows and spy on other Jellicles; but somehow, even without any special tricks, he still managed to catch his younger brother in the mischievous act every time. In fact, he had a talent for picking the most inopportune moments…such as Tugger's initiation of Electra into the group of queens who could boast of knowing the infamous Rum Tum Tugger up close and personal.

"Tum…what is that? Did you hear something?" she gasped breathlessly, her head thrown back and the muscles in her legs tense. Tugger stifled two reactions: the first to deny he had heard anything, and the second to tell Electra that nobody in this Jellicle world called him Tum. Ever.

"Maybe so…probably just one of Jenny's mice," he purred, trying to distract her from the silver-grey cat he knew was pacing on the other side of the upended television box. The walls were thin from wear and tear, and his sensitive ears could hear the soft padding of his brother's footsteps.

"But wouldn't we have smelled—oh!" she squealed, burying her paws in his wild mane as he turned back to the task at hand. Tugger increased his efforts, hoping that maybe the volume would force Munkustrap away. But just as Electra shrieked again, her tail curling with pleasure, he heard another impatient hiss from the outside of the box.

"Tugger! Either you come out, or I come in!"

_Everlasting Cat, what did I do in a past life to get the junkyard policeman as a brother?_ Tugger thought, only half-paying attention to Electra. She didn't seem to mind his distraction; in fact, she hardly seemed to notice, and as the young queen grew louder and louder, Tugger felt a twinge of smugness: _let Munk walk into the middle of THIS._

Of course, Munkustrap being Munkustrap, he made good on his promise to enter; however, he did wait until the action wound down. Electra was curled around Tugger, purring deafeningly and nuzzling his chest, when there was a brisk thump on the side of the box and a silvery head appeared at the open end.

"Electra…and Tugger. How wonderful to see you both."

Tugger held back a grin as Electra jumped in surprise, her claws pricking him. Slowly, her cheeks became a deep pink, and she danced away from him, hiding her face from the stern gaze of the elder Jellicle.

"Munkustrap…I'm sorry, we were just—"

"I know, my dear," Munk sighed, his gaze softening a little. Tugger couldn't help rolling his eyes: Munkustrap never gave his brother an inch of slack, but a little stuttering from an embarrassed young queen and he gave a whole mile.

"Why don't you go and see if Jellylorum needs help with anything? Gus has been feeling rather under the weather lately," Munk continued, flicking his head towards the opening of the box. Electra nodded and crept out, though not without a last backward gaze at Tugger. He winked at her and watched with satisfaction as she blushed even further before disappearing towards the center of the junkyard. When the tip of her tail had finally flicked out of sight, he heaved a great sigh and turned to his brother, who stood with his arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised. Munkustrap's tail bobbed and jabbed the air, as it always did when he was annoyed.

"So, yet again, you insist on ignoring all that I say and claiming the innocent for your own selfish purposes," Munk said, cocking his head at his brother. Tugger grinned and strode towards the opening, swinging his hips.

"You have a way of making phrases like 'selfish purposes' sound so very distasteful," he drawled. The open air was cool and moist, and it made his fur stand on end. Impulsively, he leapt onto a nearby milk crate and arched his back, letting the Jellicle moon soak him in pale light. After being in the dark with Electra, he felt energized, pumped, crackling like…well, like electricity. _Turns out she serves her name well,_ he mused, chuckling to himself. The moment of self-amusement was interrupted when Munk sprang up beside him. The moon illuminated both cats, bringing out the glow in their colors and making their eyes shine like headlights.

"I've never wanted to control you, Tugger," Munk murmured, somberly contemplating a paw in the moonlight. Tugger sighed and stretched out, his muscles cracking. He'd heard this before. "You know I don't care how you conduct yourself around the more mature cats. After all, you're just as much Jellicle as I…and we both know Jellicles don't do well with leashes and cages. We need our freedom." Tugger blinked and looked up. This was new.

"But I ask of you, please…for me, brother, keep away from the kittens. You know how they look to you; you should be able to control yourself. You're their elder."

"And I ask of you, brother, what is so bad about playing with kittens?" Tugger parried, shaking his mane out. "They may be young, but so were we all once. Who are you to say when they learn the ways of older cats?" Munkustrap huffed indignantly when he heard this, and Tugger smiled to himself. He knew the chink in Munkustrap's armor: his insecurities about his place as the second-in-command to their father. Questioning his authority always got him bothered.

"Youth is fragile…let them grow up on their own. You may mate all you want with them when they're old enough to know better…but for now, why can't you content yourself with Bombalurina or Exotica? They're foolish enough to fall for you; I have no reason to stop them in their misguided paths," Munk said dryly. Tugger's smile grew a little: when his brother began poking fun at him, the disagreement was over. As far as this one went, Tugger felt a draw was sufficient.

"True enough…though you know I'll never truly mate, Munk. I still can't believe you mated so early and haven't clawed your own ears off yet." Munkustrap snorted and swatted his brother's head.

"I won't tell Demeter you said that, because I would hate for my mate to murder my brother. However, if I hear another word against her…"

"All right, all right, I'll be good," Tugger smarmed, widening his eyes and flicking his tail innocently. Munk smiled and shook his head wearily.

"You know, Tugger, sometimes I don't understand how you turned out this way. Father certainly never intended—"

"That you'd fail to infect me with your rules and duties and responsibilities?" Tugger sniffed. "Never. The Rum Tum Tugger won't be held down by anything."

"The Rum Tum Tugger has a swelled head," Munk sighed. He gazed up at the moon. "I pray that someone else gets through to you someday, even if I can't. Right now, Mr. Mistoffelees seems to be my best hope at a good influence for you."

"Mistoffelees?" Tugger said, surprised. He and the Conjuring Cat were close, that was true; ever since Mistoffelees had popped out of thin air one day, his tuxedo shimmering and his eyes glittering, Tugger had admired the sprightly little cat. They were drawn to each other, perhaps through their mutual love and talent for performance and presentation. However, unlike Tugger, Mistoffelees would often tire of the spotlight and shed his coat of splendor, becoming a playful, cheerful cat that was beloved by most of the Jellicles. He was called Quaxo or Misto then, and would only do tiny tricks and slights of hand to amuse Gus or the kittens; his true magic, the pure energy that floated through him and around him, only appeared when he once again exploded in a shower of light and became Magical Mr. Mistoffelees, the greatest magician in the world.

Tugger—though he was reluctant to admit it—was very fond of both the flashy Mr. Mistoffelees and the good-natured Quaxo, and often wandered with him through London, fighting and playing and running along the streets under the glow of the moon or the beams of the sun. But though both Quaxo and Mr. Mistoffelees were kind and clever, and often called upon to help other Jellicles out of trouble, Tugger had never considered him a good influence. Not even an influence.

"Yes, Mistoffelees," Munk said, glancing at Tugger. "He's an extraordinary cat, and I've been hoping he might rub off more than magic on you. Maybe a sense of restraint…of courtesy, even…"

"The Rum Tum Tugger," Tugger said hotly, getting annoyed, "is not _influenced_ by anyone or anything. He goes where he goes, stays where he stays, and doesn't leave or come unless he feels like it. And Mistoffelees…a good influence? Have you been eating something strange from the trash bins?"

"Now see here—" Munk began to retort; he was cut short when from down in front of them, a familiar piping voice sounded, innocence and curiosity heavy in its tone.

"A good influence? Me?"

Both Jellicles jumped and looked over the edge of the milk crate at the ground; it was deserted, empty and washed in moonlight. Munkustrap frowned. "Did you hear something?"

"Really, Munkustrap, I never knew you thought so highly of me." This time, the voice came from behind them; in their rush to catch the speaker, they twisted around simultaneously and knocked shoulders, upsetting each other's balance. Both cats tumbled off the milk crate, landing on their feet and immediately shaking off the grit that had clung to them from the slide down the crate.

"Dash it all, sometimes he's worse than you," Munk grumbled, scraping dust out of his fur. Tugger brushed out his mane and grinned.

"I think I'm better for him than he is for me."

"I disagree, Tugger," said the voice. It emanated from the ground between Munkustrap's legs, and the silvery cat staggered backwards in surprise. Tugger laughed and applauded the invisible trickster.

"All right, Mistoffelees, you've had your fun, now come out here and talk to us like a regular cat," Munkustrap snapped, getting frustrated.

"Apologies, Munkustrap. I never meant any harm." The words came from the air right over their heads. Instinctively they looked up, and then whirled to the right when a flash of light exploded into a shower of sparks over the refrigerator box. When their eyes cleared, they searched for a small tuxedo cat—but found nothing.

"Curse him, why can't he just walk like the rest of us? Why does he have to bother with all this flashing and banging?"

"Because," said Mistoffelees, popping out of the air with a sound like a finger snap, "it wouldn't be nearly as exciting if I didn't."

Tugger chuckled and tugged his friend's pointed ears. "Well said, Misto." Misto grinned and executed a neat little bow. He was in his dressed-down form, a lithe cat with a smart tuxedo and quick paws. Munk gave a look of mixed amusement and irritation. Misto flashed him a sweet, shining smile, and Munkustrap visibly softened. No one could resist the magician's charm, even when he was nearly as infuriating as the Rum Tum Tugger himself.

"Well, one of these days, you might grant me the favor of walking around on your own paws instead of jumping out of thin air and spying in the shadows," Munk grumbled, still trying to be angry at Mistoffelees. The tuxedo cat pouted in mock-offense.

"I thought you said I was a good influence, Munkustrap. And you know very well that I don't _spy_. I merely observe and analyze."

"Oh, sure. You observe, analyze, and then gossip to the queens about everything," Tugger remarked with amusement. Misto shrugged and rolled his eyes. He twirled absently on one paw, unable to stand still for very long. Munkustrap huffed and brushed back his fur.

"Nevertheless…Misto, can I ask that you at least _try_ to keep my brother in line? Pollicle knows why, he seems to listen to you more than he's ever listened to me."

"You know, Munkustrap, it seems to me that it might be wiser to make this request without Tugger standing right beside us," Misto said with a barely discernible smirk. Tugger chuckled again.

"Oh, don't worry, Misto, I've already resolved to follow your example. Starting now, I'll spend my time hiding in cans and pipes, waiting to jump out and scare the fur off of any Jellicle who's foolish to wander near me."

"Don't tell me you're still bitter about that. I've promised you a thousand times that I didn't mean to startle you…and anyway, it's not my fault you shrieked like a queen-kit," Misto said innocently. Munkustrap laughed and hastily turned it into a cough when Tugger glared at him. Swallowing the last of his mirth, he glanced upwards at the moon, its silvery light flooding his face.

"I've got to go…Alonzo and Pouncival wanted me to join them in a little hunting. Are either of you interested?" he asked. Tugger shook his head and preened a little.

"I've exhausted all my energy for tonight, brother. Maybe some other time," he purred, relishing the look of distaste that appeared on Munk's face. Beside them, Misto shook his head with a small smile.

"I have my own plans for the evening, Munkustrap. But thank you for the invitation." Munk nodded and, with a stern parting look to the both of them, slinked away through the Junkyard, his shoulders riding low and his tail twitching as he prepared to hunt.

"Plans, you say? With whom, I wonder?" Tugger said with mock-curiosity, speaking only when Munkustrap was out of earshot. Misto rolled his eyes and batted a paw at Tugger, who parried and aimed a swipe at the smaller cat's haunches. Misto leapt back and scurried up a stack of old tires, grinning as the Rum Tum Tugger followed. He clambered through the loops of old rubber with a gleeful smirk on his face, tracking his friend's moving body with his eyes.

"It couldn't be with me, or Alonzo, or Tumblebrutus…in fact, I'm pretty sure you have a plans with a queen!" he hissed playfully, scampering along after Misto, who was marching through a scattered maze of old cracker boxes. The tuxedo cat blushed and made a sudden dash towards a particularly large box; by the time Tugger caught up with him, Misto had disappeared.

"Trying to run, eh? Well, if you're going to spend the night on the lam, I might as well find the queen you're standing up and keep her company. But which one could it be? Etcetera, or Tantomile, or maybe Exotica…but wait, I _do_ know who it is! And really, Mistoffelees, I can't willingly let you leave my own niece all alone for the night!"

"Shush, you madman! Do you want every Jellicle and Pollicle in London to hear you?" hissed Misto, popping out of the air behind Tugger. He was blushing even more now, and his fur was ruffled. Tugger turned and grinned with infuriating smugness.

"You seem to be suffering under the delusion that only you and Jemima are aware of these little midnight rendezvous'…I can assure you, my friend, only my brother and his mate are so blind. The rest of the tribe…well, we are Jellicles, after all. It's not so easy to hide things from our eyes."

"What a dreadful liar you are, Tugger," said Misto in an offhand tone, though his eyes darted to and fro and his fur bristled. Tugger grinned with delight at his friend's agitation; it was so very fun to get him riled up.

"Take it easy there, Misto. There's nothing wrong with a little play between kittens…and the Ball is fast approaching. You'll both be old enough for mating this year," Tugger reminded him. The magician sighed and stared up at the Jellicle moon. Tugger knew it made him think of Jemima.

"Tugger, about Munkustrap…are you quite sure that he and Demeter aren't…informed?"

"Not unless your coy little queen has told them herself."

"They would be angry, I suppose…Munkustrap is more strict than I think he's aware of."

"Oh, trust me, fellow Jellicle, Munk knows how strict he is," Tugger groaned. On a whim, he turned and leapt onto the box behind him. Misto jumped onto a different box, stretching out on his back and baring his stomach to the moonlight.

"Do you think he would…you know…disapprove?" Misto asked with a touch of anxiety. Tugger shrugged, combing his mane with lazy paws.

"That depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Whether you and Jemima have…mated prematurely." Tugger said the last two words with a low rumble in his throat, and laughed out loud when Misto sat bolt upright, color rapidly flooding to his face. "I'll take that as a resounding 'yes.'"

"Tugger! You know very well that Jemima and I…I would never…it's not…Everlasting Cat, I'm not _you_!" Misto protested. His last exclamation made Tugger burst into laughter, and soon tears were leaking from his eyes as he clutched his stomach and rocked back and forth with mirth. Misto glared at him, growling softly.

"I'm sorry, Misto," Tugger finally choked out, his ribs still heaving from laughing. Misto sighed and rolled his eyes, arching his back and stretching into an upside-down U. With a little flick of his hindquarters, he flipped backwards and cartwheeled to the ground. Tugger sat and watched the tuxedo cat flit nimbly around the Junkyard, leaping and twisting and dancing like only a magical Jellicle could. Even without his full magic, Misto could dance with the best of them. As a tiny kitten, he was always a smash at the ball. This year, his first time as a full-fledged adult tom, was going to be something special.

"My friend!" Tugger called finally, disrupting Misto's dancing. The startled Jellicle lost his balance in the middle of a turn and nearly crashed to ground, regaining his balance just in time.

"What is it?" he called back from atop a broken rocking chair. Tugger gestured up at the moon, which was glowing even brighter now.

"Aren't you forgetting someone?"

"Oh…Jemima!" Misto gasped, scampering back towards Tugger. "I've got to go meet her…see you tomorrow, Tugger."

"Of course, my little magician," Tugger growled, grinning. Misto return the smile, gave Tugger's tail a good-natured swat, and then melted into the shadows, his white chest disappearing as thoroughly as his black body.

"Ah, to be young…" Tugger sighed, leaning back and staring up at the moon. He heard a faint hiss from the shadows beside him and chuckled; Misto, who honestly wasn't _that_ much younger than Tugger, always hated when his friend teased him about his age. But Tugger being Tugger, he could never stop.

Up above, stars glittered as brightly as the magical coat of Mr. Mistoffelees. A normal cat 's eye wouldn't have been able to pick out the points of light against the haze of smog and light pollution that lay over London. But the Rum Tum Tugger was a Jellicle cat, and he could see to the farthest star and beyond, up up up to where the world stopped and the Heaviside Layer began.

Tugger sighed and stretched his legs out, tendons snapping taught. Another downside to his family lineage was having Old Deuteronomy for a father. Not that his father was anything but the most loving and wonderful of cats; but growing up watching your father grant one cat after another the privilege of reincarnation, and knowing that you would never be worthy of it…well, it wore on a Jellicle. The Heaviside Layer…Munkustrap would go there eventually. Old Deuteronomy himself would go too, as soon as Munkustrap felt ready to take over as Leader of the Jellicle tribe. And he, the Rum Tum Tugger…where would he go? When his father had ascended and his brother was ready to do so as well, he, Tugger, the infamously curious cat, would be alone. Forgotten. His sparkle gone, his curiosity exhausted…a stray cat in an unfriendly wilderness.

"Lovely night, innit?"

Tugger jumped so high in the air he nearly pitched himself off the cracker box. Lost in thought, he'd noticed nothing as Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie, loaded up with contraband, slipped into the junkyard and crawled up on an adjoining box of cookies. Now, as he attempted to stop panting like a Pollicle and retain a shred of dignity, the cat burglars meowed with laughter and did a few impromptu acrobatics.

"Whatcha lookin' for up there, Tugger? Think the moon's gonna lap up your sweet talk?" Rumpleteazer giggled, back-flipping over a stack of newspapers. Mungojerrie vaulted in the opposite direction, a blur of orange and white.

"Well, gee, Rumple, I don't think 'e's _that_ full of 'imself! After all, if 'e was, 'e'd explode faster 'an a bottle of pop after Macavity shakes it up!"

"A bottle of pop!" shrieked his sister, landing agilely a few inches away from Tugger. He stared right at her, his face stony.

"You have four seconds to run away before I tie you together with your own tails," he said in a monotone. Rumpleteazer pouted with mock-hurt and reached out for him, thrusting her chest forward.

"Aw, you don't mean that, Tugger…we're your friends, ain't we? We've 'ad some pretty marvelous times together…" Her breath brushed over his ear and she flexed a long, shapely leg. Mungojerrie whistled, swinging from a broken table leg. Tugger allowed himself a single moment of contemplation as Rumpleteazer displayed her sensuous body before him—then he raised one paw and casually pushed her off the box.

"'EY!" she screeched, landing on her feet. Mungojerrie burst into laughter, which his sister quickly silenced with an earsplitting yowl. Casting Tugger a very black look, she hoisted her bag of spoils and darted away, her brother trailing behind her.

"Trash," Tugger muttered to himself. He lay back down and closed his eyes…and saw Rumpleteazer's leg twisting and stretching in the moonlight. "Damn it," he swore, blinking to clear the image out of his head. Stupid little thief…he'd had enough for the night with Electra. Then Rumpleteazer had to go and get him all worked up again…

Tugger stood up and shook out his mane. If he had to do it, then he had to do it. But not with Rumpleteazer; she was much too sleazy for his taste (also, he'd made her rather unhappy by shoving her off a box a minute ago). Bombalurina was usually available…or maybe Cassandra. The Abyssinian hadn't caved to him yet, but he was game for another try. The night was yet young.

As he made his way towards the heart of the Junkyard, leaping and prancing through towers of wonderful Jellicle junk, the Rum Tum Tugger couldn't help but enjoy the tug of the wind at his mane and the glow of the moon on his back. Freedom…freedom was the best part about being a Jellicle. No rules, no restrictions, nothing to stop you from jumping off a ledge and soaring through the—

Tugger just managed to land without making any sound, though it required some pretty fancy maneuvers. Perched on a cracked washstand, he stretched his neck to full length and peered behind him, trying to see whether or not he had disturbed the two Jellicles that he had glimpsed in midair.

They were on the ground just below and behind him, standing in the light of a hotwired car headlamp. As he watched, the young tom leaned forward and nuzzled the neck of the queen before him. She purred and stroked his chest and shoulders with her paws, smoothing his fur until it shone. With a meow of happiness, the tom pulled away and began to circle the queen, his body riding low as he pretended to stalk her like prey. She played along, cowering and waving her arms at him. Suddenly he pounced, and the two of them rolled across the Junkyard floor, nipping and mewing and laughing with as much joy and contentment as Tugger had ever seen in his life.

They finally came to a halt, her body pinned beneath his, their legs entangled. For a moment, Tugger thought they were going a certain direction, and he got very ready to make himself scarce. But no; instead of merging into a single silhouette, they split apart and bounded into the air, dancing to the music of cars on the outside street and wind in the trees and starts twinkling in the heavens. They danced with the fire of youth and love, and Tugger watched them for a long time, his heart alternately sinking with sadness and blazing with passion at the energy in their movements.

After many minutes of dancing, they finally came together again, paw matching paw, hips thrusting forward to touch, heads thrown back. They stood like that for one crystal-clear second, raised onto their toes, a living tribute to togetherness. Then, with a sort of sigh, the two Jellicles collapsed against each other and fell to the ground, clasped in what appeared to be a very involved embrace.

Tugger took this as a cue to leave. Padding along as gently as he could, he slipped onto the ground and slunk away through the Junkyard, his mind growing dark. Seeing Mistoffelees and Jemima together had drained the urges from his mind and the tenseness from his limbs. He felt tired now, like a cat twice his age. _Sleep beneath the moon, little Jellicle…sleep like a newborn kitten. Let the song within you carry away that which smothers and silences it._

Tugger hunted around until he found an acceptable den: a discarded bureau, its drawers still intact, standing lopsidedly beside a brimming trash can. He leapt into a drawer and curled up, humming deep in his throat. Two little cats, happy just to be with each other…not caring whether or not the rest of the world disappeared as long as they had each other. For some reason he couldn't fathom, it made Tugger's heart ache a little.

He fell asleep to visions of stars dancing with each other in the sky, leaving sparkling trails of stardust and whirling together in a never-ending Jellicle ball…of course. They were Jellicle stars.


End file.
